The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Racetrack
by Rustie73
Summary: Racetrack cons Dutchy and Pie Eater into an overnight hiking trip on a deserted island. Modern, Humor, Mild Slash. Rated for Language. COMPLETE
1. The Master Plan

I do not own Newsies, or any of the Newsies characters. To the best of my knowledge they are owned by Disney.

I am making no money from this story. I seriously doubt the sanity of anyone who would pay money to read anything I have written.

* * *

Racetrack cons Dutchy and Pie Eater into an overnight hiking trip on a deserted island.

Modern, Humor, Fluff, Mild Slash. Rated for Language.

* * *

**A/N:** This began as a one shot but ended up being quite long. It is now a three-chapter story.

* * *

**CHAPTER 1 - The Master Plan**

"This isn't going to work, Race," Dutchy protested. "He's going to see right through this."

"It is going to work," Racetrack replied. "Just keep rowing. I've got everything planned out. We've been over this a dozen times, and you know exactly what to do."

"I don't know how I let you talk me into this. I must be out of my mind," Dutchy grumbled.

"Look, Romeo. You're the one who came to me for help. You said it yourself. Pie Eater isn't impressed with your GPA. He's into the physical not the cerebral. It's time for you to face the fact that no matter how hard you try you are never going to be an athlete."

"But I don't like the idea of lying to him. I can't trick him into liking me. It wouldn't be right."

"Jesse, Dutch. You've done the research and studied the information. It's not like you're making this stuff up. You've read everything on camping and survival that you could get your hands on. You know exactly what to do . . . Now let's go over it again."

"Oh, Come on, Race. It's 4:00 in the morning, and I'm too damn tired to think."

"You don't have to tell me what time it is. I'm the one who woke you up, remember? And do I have to remind you that I'm out here at this ungodly hour to help you!"

"Okay, okay. Don't get your shorts twisted. I do appreciate the help, but I'm just not sure that this is the right thing to do."

"Everything is going to work out fine. Now let's go over it again."

"All right," Dutchy grumbled. "First, you and I take these two coolers out to the island. One is filled with ice and a couple of fish. In the likely event that I don't catch any fish myself, I can claim that I caught these. The other cooler contains a cell phone that we can use to call for help in case this plan backfires in my face . . . _Which it probably will_."

"Keep going," Racetrack ordered. "But you can leave out the smart remarks!"

"When we get to shore, you and I will hide the coolers in the rocky embankment on the north side of the island. Then we get back into the boat and return to the dock. We will then sneak back into the cabin and wait until it's time to awaken Pie. He and I will get into this boat and I will row back to the island . . . _again_. Then we land the boat and take off on this make-believe hike you've cooked up."

"Very good," Race smirked. "Go on."

"Then you and Skittery will row out to the island in a second boat. One of you will then take this boat and you will both return to the dock. When Pie and I get back from our hike I will act surprised to find that the boat is gone, and he will think that we are stranded. We will have nothing to help us survive except the few items that I have brought in my backpack. I will then go about showing him what a _virile hunk of man _I am by demonstrating my mastery of the great outdoors. Pie will be so impressed by my masculinity that he will throw himself into my arms and immediately fall in love with me . . . Or when he finds out what a lying sack of shit I am he will hold my head under the water until I expire!"

"You did really good, Dutchy. All except for that last part. Which isn't going to happen."

"You wanna bet?" Dutchy asked sarcastically.

"As a matter of fact I do. I say that this plan is going to work just fine. By tonight you and Pie will be sleeping under the stars together. If I'm right, you will get laid, and I get ten bucks from you. That way you and I both win."

"And what if this plan doesn't work out?"

"In that case, I give you ten bucks and you go back to whatever form of self gratification you've been practicing. So in the long run it really doesn't matter whether you win or lose, you'll be getting your rocks off either way."

"That's disgusting," Dutchy huffed.

"Just shut up and row, Romeo."

-o-o-o-o-

When they returned to the cabin, Dutchy threw himself into bed in the hope of getting at least one hour of sleep before he had to wake Pie Eater.

When he was sure that Dutchy was sleeping, Racetrack snuck into the room where Pie, Skittery, and Specs were sleeping. He awakened Pie and motioned for him to come outside.

The damp morning air and the wet grass soaking through his sneakers sent a chill through Pie's body. He grabbed a slightly musty beach towel from the clothesline and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"Are you sure that we're doing the right thing, Race? Dutchy is the smartest guy I know. He's gonna figure out what's going on, and he'll feel even worse than he does now."

"Of course it's the right thing to do. Dutchy is our friend and we need to help him out. For whatever reason, he has gotten it into his head that he doesn't fit-in with us anymore. And it's not that he hasn't tried. Every time we get together to play a sport or join a team, he always goes along with us. He knows that he sucks, but he tries harder than anyone. Like when we all joined that bowling league. His highest score for the season was a 67. He sucked, but he still stuck it out. And do you remember what happened when we went skiing last winter? While we were all out on the slopes having a good time, he was stuck for two days back on the bunny hill with the six year olds. Dutchy tries his best and never complains. Can you imagine what it must have been like to be the last guy picked for every game in gym class?"

"But why does he feel that he needs to prove something to me?"

"Think about it, Pie. You are the most athletic guy we know. The only high school team you weren't on was the chess team. You earned more letters in sports than the rest of us combined. Just look at yourself. Even your muscles have muscles. He feels that if he can impress you then he won't just be the tag along any more."

"I guess that it makes sense. And I don't want him to feel like an outsider. He's as much a part of our group as anyone."

"That's the spirit," Racetrack said as he slapped Pie on the back. "Now let's go over this one more time."

"Okay," Pie yawned. "Dutchy and I row out to the island and land the boat. When we go for our hike, you and Skittery come by and steel the boat. I let Dutchy think that I believe we are stranded and spend the next twenty four hours letting Dutchy pretend to be Super Nature Boy."

"Perfect," Race said.

"I'm still not sure about this, Race. Dutchy is not dope. He's gonna see through this whole thing."

"Nah. He will be working so hard at trying to impress you that he wouldn't recognize his own mother if she swam to shore!"

-o-o-o-o-

The two remained silent as the boat cut through the morning mist. The only sound was the splashing of the oars as Dutchy rowed toward their destination.

Dutchy's back and arms were beginning to get sore. Though he wasn't athletic, he was in good physical condition. Still, it was his third trip rowing across the lake that morning. The oars were also taking their toll on Dutchy's hands. The only callouses he'd ever had were the ones from playing his guitar.

Pie noticed Dutchy's obvious discomfort and offered to row for a while.

"Look, Pie," Dutchy bristled. "I may not be one of those jockstrap wearing hunks of beefcake you are used to hanging around with, but I'm no girl either. I'll let you know if I need your help."

Race was right, Pie thought. Dutchy really is sensitive about not being as athletic as the rest of the guys.

Once on the island, the two started out on their hike.

Racetrack and Skittery had been watching from the dock with a pair of binoculars. When Pie and Dutchy were out of sight they climbed into their boat and headed for the island. Everything went according to schedule. They quickly took Dutchy's boat and rowed back to the dock.

"Are you sure that they're going to be all right?" Skittery asked.

"What could possibly go wrong?" Racetrack replied. "Dutchy has read more about survival than any human could possibly need to know and Pie has been camping dozens of times since he was a kid. If on the odd chance that anything does go wrong they both know that I put my cell phone in the empty cooler. It has a full battery charge, and all of our numbers are in the memory. Take my word for it. Those two are going to be swapping spits by midnight."

"I have to admit that it was a great idea to tell Pie Eater that story you made up," Skittery chuckled.

"Well, I had to give Pie a reason to go along without asking Dutchy any questions. Let's face it. If Dutchy had any idea that Pie knew what was going on he'd abandon the plan. Then I'd have to go on listening to him complain about unrequited love. At least we'll all know one way or the other by this time tomorrow."

-o-o-o-o-

When they reached the highest point of the island, they stopped to take in the view. For the first time, Dutchy realized how far the island actually was from their shoreline cabin. They decided that this would be a good place to rest and to enjoy their lunch.

They were both surprised that they had each made lunch for the other. Pie made peanut butter and banana sandwiches which he knew was Dutchy's favorite, and Dutchy had made peanut butter and grape jelly sandwiches because he knew that Pie ate them every day.

"Great minds think alike," Dutchy laughed as they exchanged the sandwiches.

After lunch they cleaned up the area and put the sandwich wrappers and empty juice boxes in their backpacks.

They continued exploring and eventually worked their way around the island until they were back at their starting point.

Dutchy and Pie both acted shocked and upset to find that the boat was missing.

"Gee. I'm sorry, Pie. I mustn't have pulled the boat far enough on shore and it floated away."

"It's not your fault, Dutchy. It was probably a wave or something that knocked it lose."

They were each trying so hard to sound convincing that neither noticed how bad the other's acting was.

Not so surprisingly, they convinced each other quite easily that they were going to be fine and that their friends would eventually come to rescue them.

Dutchy disappeared for a while and returned carrying some sticks and dry brush.

"What are you doing?" Pie asked as he watched his friend pile the sticks and make something that looked like a miniature bow and arrow.

"I'm going to start a fire," Dutchy replied confidently. "You see, I wrap the string around the stick and the faster I move the bow the more friction and heat is created. We'll have a fire in no time."

"Interesting," Pie said as he fumbled through his backpack. "That seems like an awful lot of work just to get a fire started. Why don't you just do what I do?" Then he reached out with a disposable cigarette lighter and ignited the kindling.

Dutchy sat on the ground with his jaw hanging open, while Pie fanned the fire with his baseball cap. He added a few more sticks, and soon they had a substantial campfire.

"There you go," Pie said proudly then flopped himself back down on the ground. He could hear Dutchy mumbling to himself, but the only words he could make out were, "Son of a bitch" and "Racetrack."

Dutchy disappeared again and returned with one long stick.

Pie watched as he took off his hiking boots and removed the laces.

"What are you doing now?" Pie asked.

"I'm making a fishing pole. I'm going to use this stick, these laces, and that large safety pin that's on my backpack to catch us some fish for supper. You'd better give me your laces too," Dutchy said as he stumbled over the rough ground in his bare feet.

"Don't bother," Pie said. "I still have a couple of sandwiched in my backpack. That should hold us until tomorrow morning." Then he reached into the backpack and pulled out his CD player. He popped in the earphones, pulled his cap over his eyes, and lay back to relax.

Dutchy plopped back down on the ground and again started mumbling.

Pie watched from under his cap as Dutchy attempted to re-lace his boots. He had to fight back his laughter as Dutchy became more and more frustrated because the laces kept coming out uneven. After his third attempt, Dutchy gave up. He shoved his feet back into the boots and tied them off. He continued to mumble as he stomped over to his backpack and took out a bottle of Irish whiskey.

"What's that?" Pie asked looking a bit more interested.

"Snake bite medicine," Dutchy said sarcastically as he cracked open the cap and took a healthy swallow.

"I thought that you took snake bite medicine _after_ you were bitten by a snake," Pie teased.

"Okay then. If it makes you happy, we'll call it snake bite repellant!" Dutchy spat. Then he took another large swig. "Do you want any?" he said as he held the bottle out to Pie. "Or do you have some Dom Perignon in that backpack of yours?"

Ignoring Dutchy's sarcasm, Pie took the bottle and swallowed a healthy portion as well. "Looks like it's going to be a long night," he grumbled. Then he saw the expression on his friend's face. Dutchy looked like a kid that had just found out there was no Santa Claus. Pie looked at the fire, and his friends crooked laces, and remembered why they were there in the first place. It hadn't occurred to him that Dutchy was trying to impress him.

"That fire starting thing and the fishing pole were very creative," Pie said in an attempt to redeem himself. "Where'd you learn to do all that stuff?"

"From books," Dutchy huffed. "I wasn't born with that macho gene that you have, so it doesn't come naturally to me like it does to you!"

Before Pie could reply, Dutchy stomped back into the woods.

When he returned, he was struggling to carry a large armful of firewood. He had twigs in his hair and his hands and arms were covered with scratches and scrapes, but he managed to carry it all back in one trip.

Dutchy stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the large roaring fire that was just a small blaze when he had left.

"What the hell? Where did all that wood come from?" Dutchy grumbled.

"From the beach. I figured that I'd make myself useful and pick up the driftwood around here while you were gone."

"Son of a bitch!" Dutchy shouted as he threw the firewood to the ground. "I'm gonna kill Racetrack when I see him! Him and his stupid ideas!"

"Whadda you mean Racetrack and his stupid ideas? You knew about his plan?"

"Huh . . . What? . . . You mean that you knew why you I brought you here and you still came?" Dutchy was thrilled to think that Pie knew about the plan and still came along. That must mean that he likes me too, he thought.

"Of course I knew," Pie replied. "Why do you think that I came along on this make-believe camp out? Racetrack told me how you feel left out because you aren't athletic like the rest of us, so I agreed to let you impress me with your knowledge of the great outdoors."

"He told you fucking what!" Dutchy was in an absolute rage. "So you and Race don't think that I'm man enough to keep up with you? I'm gonna kill that little son of a bitch when I get my hands on him!"

"Jesse, Dutch. It's nothing to be ashamed of. So you're not a strong guy and you suck at sports. You're just good at different things. Like . . . um . . . ah . . . Well, you're the smartest guy I know. And just because you can't hit a baseball or sink a basket doesn't mean that we don't want you to hang around with us. Don't I always pick you to be on my team when we choose us sides?"

Dutchy felt humiliated. "What am I? Some sort of testosterone charity case to you? . . . Well, fuck you, and fuck Racetrack, and - - and - - fuck all of you! I'm gonna get that phone and get the hell off of this stinking island and get the hell away from all of you as fast as I can!"

Dutchy took off in the direction of the embankment where he and Racetrack had hidden the coolers. Pie followed a few steps behind.

"That God damn, half-pint, bet making, son of a bitch and his muscle-bound moron of a friend think that they can make a fool out of me?"

"Hey! Who are you calling a muscle-bound moron, you pencil necked geek?"

The two kept on trudging toward the embankment and argued every step of the way. The further they went the more biting the insults became.

"At least I don't have to measure my manhood by the number of letters I received in sports!" Dutchy hissed.

"Yeah! Well, at least I don't need a magnifying glass to find my manhood every time I need to take a piss!" Pie spat.

By the time they reached the embankment it had become a challenge to see who could get to the phone and call off the charade first.

Dutchy went to the base of the embankment and started the steady climb up. Pie, on the other hand, quickly scaled the hill to the top of the embankment and started to climb down.

For a brief moment, Dutchy had to admire how great Pie looked as he expertly scaled the rocks. Then he realized that Pie was standing on loose stone. "Don't go that way, jackass!" he called out. "It isn't safe!"

"Mind your own fucking business, and quit telling me what to do!" Pie shouted back as he grabbed the first cooler.

"Im serious," Dutchy yelled. "It isn't safe. That's all loose stone up there and you are going to - -"

Before he could finish his sentence the rocks beneath his friend's feet gave way, sending Pie, the coolers, and a shower of rocks and dirt hurtling toward Dutchy.

**END Chapter 1**

Thanks for reading. Please review.

* * *

A/N: This story was not beta'd. I hope that any grammar mistakes were not too much of a distraction.

Thanks to all who inquired about **_Seems Like Only Yesterday_**. This story is still active, and I plan to post the next chapter soon.


	2. NinetyNine Bottles of Beer

I do not own Newsies, or any of the Newsies characters. To the best of my knowledge they are owned by Disney.

I am making no money from this story. I seriously doubt the sanity of anyone who would pay money to read anything I have written.

* * *

Racetrack cons Dutchy and Pie into an overnight hiking trip on a deserted island. 

Modern, Humor, Fluff, Mild Slash. Rated for Language.

* * *

**CHAPTER 2 -Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer **

When the dust cleared, Dutchy was sprawled on his back and covered with rocks and debris.

After a moment, he pulled himself up and began looking around for his glasses. They were lying just a few feet away and were virtually undamaged. He blew the dirt from the lenses and placed them back in their proper place.

Dutchy's chest tightened when he saw Pie lying motionless half way up the embankment. He quickly scaled the rocks to get to his friend.He was careful not to move Pie until he could determine if there were any injuries. He gently squeezed Pie's arm and called his name.

Though he was dazed, Pie opened his eyes and groaned.

"Are you hurt?" Dutchy asked.

"I'm not sure." Pie answered as he tried to get up. "I can't move my leg," he groaned.

Pie's foot and ankle were pinned between two large rocks. Dutchy tried to move them but they wouldn't budge.

"Get the phone," Pie winced.

"Fuck the phone! I've got to get you out of here."

"You can't move those rocks by yourself, so get the fucking phone and call for help!"

Dutchy looked down the embankment and saw one cooler laying on its side in the water below. The other had landed in the lake and was floating offshore. He carefully climbed down and found that the cooler had opened and was sloshing with water. The phone was no longer inside. He reached around in the muddy water and pulled out the remains of Racetrack's phone. It was smashed and waterlogged.

"The phone is ruined," Dutchy said as he climbed back up. "There's no way we can call for help on this thing. Looks like we're on our own till tomorrow."

"Shit! I can't stay like this until tomorrow," Pie winced.

"You won't have to," Dutchy assured him. "I'll have you out of here in a few minutes."

"But you're not strong enough to move these rocks by yourself."

"I don't have to be," Dutchy grinned. "I'll be right back."

He went away for just a couple of minutes and returned with a long heavy branch he retrieved from the woods.

"All we need is a little leverage," Dutchy grinned as he wedged the branch between the two rocks. Then he leaned against the branch using all of his weight. The rocks separated and Pie pulled out his foot and groaned from the pain.

"I don't think that it's broken," Dutchy said as he examined the ankle. "But I don't want to take off that boot until we get back to camp. Your shin and that left arm have a few good scrapes, but I can clean them up later."

Dutchy half carried and half-dragged Pie down the embankment to the shoreline.

"Now what the hell are you doing?" Pie asked as he watched Dutchy remove his clothes.

"I'm going for a swim," Dutchy grinned as he dove into the water. The water was so cold that it took his breath away. He swam out to the cooler and pulled it back to shore.

Pie watched as Dutchy climbed out of the water. His skin was pink from the cold and his lips were slightly blue. Not a bad build for a thin guy, Pie thought. He couldn't help noticing how great Dutchy looked with his wet boxers clinging to his body. Nice ass he thought to himself, being grateful for the distraction from his pain.

Dutchy ripped strips from his shirt and wrapped them around Pie's ankle.

"Shouldn't you take off the boot to do that?" Pie asked.

"If I take it off here that ankle is going to blow up like a balloon. I just want to stabilize it until we get back to the campsite."

After Pie's ankle was secure, Dutchy ripped the sleeve off of his shirt and tied a knot in one end. He took some ice out of the recently rescued cooler and stuffed it onto the sleeve, then tied it around Pie's ankle.

"So do you feel up to a piggy back ride?" Dutchy asked as he pulled his clothes back on.

"A piggy back ride?"

"Look, we both know that I'm not strong enough to carry you over my shoulder fireman style, so this is the only way I can think of to get you back to camp."

Pie climbed on Dutchy's back and they began their long journey.

Pie didn't know what hurt more his ankle or his pride because Dutchy had to carry him the entire way.

Though he did have to stop several times to catch his breath, Dutchy soon brought Pie back to camp and set him down next to the fire.

Dutchy used their bottled water to wash the dirt and gravel out of Pie's scraped skin, then tore a few more pieces off his shirt to cover the wounds.

"This should keep you warm while I'm gone," Dutchy said as he piled more wood on the fire.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to go back and get that cooler," Dutchy called out as he ducked behind a tree. "We're going to need that ice for your ankle and for fresh drinking water."

Dutchy emerged from behind the tree carrying his boxer shorts. He picked up the stick that he was going to use as a fishing pole and stuck it into the ground near the fire. "Guess I'll be going commando until these dry," Dutchy laughed as he hung his shorts on the stick. "You might as well have some of this snakebite repellent. It might take the edge off the pain. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Dutchy gave a reassuring smile, then disappeared back along the shore.

Pie sat sipping the whiskey and staring into the fire. The more he sipped the more questions filled his head.

What the hell was Race thinking when he planned this fiasco? The entire story was obviously a lie. But why would Race lie to me? He's my best friend for shit's sake. Why the hell did Dutchy get so pissed off? What did Race tell him about why we were here? It obviously wasn't the same story he told me. And when the hell did Dutchy become so self-reliant and take charge? Did Dutchy always look that good in boxers? If it's true about cold water making things shrink, then what did Dutchy look like on a hot day? He sure looked good in those wet boxers. How come I never noticed his ass before? And why the hell am I even thinking about Dutchy's ass now!

Suddenly Pie realized the swelling in his ankle was taking second place to the swelling in his pants.

"Oh Crap!" he grumbled as he shifted his jeans to relieve his discomfort. "This ain't happening. I must be going into shock or having a reaction to this snake bite repellent. Just think of something else and you'll be fine," he told himself.

Pie took out his CD player only to find that the batteries were dead. "Okay," he said "Think of something else to keep you busy."

Pie ran down the list of the few chemical elements he could remember from his high school chemistry class, then went on to list the names and jersey numbers of the guys on his old soccer team. The distraction was starting to work when his mind began to wander . . . Soccer . . . That's the one sport that Dutchy doesn't totally suck at. He isn't really good at it but I've seen worse. Then Pie looked up and saw Dutchy's boxers hanging from the stick and waving in the breeze. "And he did look good in those gym shorts. . . . Oh Crap! Not again."

Suddenly Pie began to sing, "Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall. Ninety-nine bottles of beer . . ." It worked. Somewhere around eighty-four bottles, Pie stopped thinking about Dutchy and concentrated on the song. He sang and sipped the whiskey and was really starting to enjoy himself until he got to around twenty-seven bottles. That's when his bladder became so full he thought that he would explode.

Pie looked around and saw a group of trees that were far enough away from the campfire but not too far to try and reach on his own. He knew that he couldn't walk so he tried to crawl. He didn't make more than a foot or two before the pain became too much for him to bear. Finally, Pie sat up and using one leg to push himself, he slid toward the woods on his butt. As he scooted along, he continued to sing, "Twenty-six bottles of beer on the wall. Twenty-six bottles of - -"

"Well, that's an interesting picture," Dutchy laughed. "I could hear you singing about half way back. Sounds like you're feeling better."

"Dutchy! Thank God. Give me a hand."

"Well, what the hell are you trying to do?"

"I'm trying to get to those trees over there. I need to take a leak really bad."

"Okay, buddy," Dutchy laughed. "Up you go."

Dutchy pulled him off the ground, and Pie put an arm around Dutchy's shoulder. As they hobbled toward the trees, Pie continued singing. "Twenty-six bottles of beer - -"

"How much of that snakebite repellent have you had?" Dutchy asked.

"Not enough," Pie replied. "My mind was starting to play tricks on me!"

"What about?"

"You don't want to know!" Pie replied.

When they reached their destination, Dutchy leaned Pie against a tree then turned around to give him some privacy. A few moments passed but Dutchy heard nothing. "Is everything okay?" he asked.

"No, everything is not okay," Pie hissed. "I can't go with you standing there like that!"

"Well it never bothered you before," Dutchy mumbled as he walked back to the fire. "You never cared where or when you took a leak. Usually I have to jump out of the way so you don't piss on my foot!"

While he was waiting, Dutchy filled the empty water bottles with the melted ice from the cooler.

"I'm done," Pie called from his place back at the trees.

"Congratulations," Dutchy said as he went to help his friend back to the fire.

When Pie was situated back on the ground, Dutchy handed him a bottle of water. "Drink this," he said. "I don't want you getting dehydrated after drinking all that whiskey."

Pie took a sip. "This water tastes like fish," he grumbled.

"That's because of these," Dutchy said as he waved the fish at Pie. "Compliments of your friend Racetrack. I figure that we can have the fish for dinner and save the sandwiches for tomorrow. There's no telling when that fool is going to come and rescue us, and we could get pretty hungry while we wait. Now drink that water and stop complaining."

Pie sat sipping the water as he watched Dutchy take a few sticks and the fish and in no time their dinner was cooking over the campfire. Then Dutchy scooped some of the ice out of the one cooler and dumped it into the other. "Come on, Buddy," Dutchy said as he pulled Pie up to sit on the first cooler. "I want to take a look at that ankle. It's going to hurt but I'll be as gentle as I can, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Pie replied.

Dutchy carefully removed the strips of his shirt that he had tied around the ankle then untied the boot. Pie winced when the boot and sock came off. It was definitely swollen, and the skin was black and blue. "See if you can move it," Dutchy said as he gently supported the leg. Pie gritted his teeth and groaned, but he did move the ankle. "That's good," Dutchy said. "It doesn't seem to be broken." Then he took the cooler with the scoops of ice down to the lake and added enough water to cover Pie's ankle.

"I want you to put your foot all the way in so that the ankle is covered by the water and ice," Dutchy instructed. "It's going to hurt like hell for a couple of minutes, but then it will start to feel better."

Pie placed his foot into the icy cold water. "Fuck!" he shouted.

"No thanks," Dutchy laughed. "Maybe later." He immediately wished he hadn't said it. Dutchy turned away so that Pie wouldn't see him blush.

Dutchy tended the fire and turned the fish to make sure they would cook evenly. When they were done, he used the cooler's lid as a plate and brought it over to Pie. "Dinner is served," he said.

They were both surprised at how good the fish tasted, and they were so hungry that neither minded eating with their hands.

"I've got to admit it, Dutchy. That dinner wasn't half bad."

"Thanks, Pie. How about some snake bite repellent for dessert?"

"I don't mind if I do," Pie grinned. "Ya know, Dutch? Considering everything that has gone wrong today, I'm really having a good time."

"You just think that you are having a good time because of all that whiskey you've had."

"I'm serious. Thanks to you, I'm not stuck up on that ledge. You fixed my ankle, got me back here safe and sound, and made us a great dinner. Now I'm sitting next to a roaring fire, drinking Irish whiskey, and having a damn good time."

"What you really mean is that you are having a good time considering you were tricked into coming here, you fell off a ledge and almost got killed, and I managed to get us stranded."

"Wait a minute, Dutchy. None of this is your fault. And you didn't get us stranded. It was Racetrack and his crazy plan that got us stranded here. When I see him tomorrow, I'm gonna kick him in the ass with my good foot! Besides, you're kinda handy to have around. It's like being stranded on Gilligan's Island with the Professor."

"I guess geeks do come in handy now and again," Dutchy said. "Now let me take another look at that foot of yours. It's been soaking for a couple of hours now."

"You're not a geek. You're a pretty cool guy. And the Professor wasn't a geek either. Those castaways would have been dead a dozen times over if it wasn't for him. Come to think of it, he wasn't bad looking either."

"You only think that he wasn't bad looking because you are comparing him with the other guys on that island."

"Nah. He wasn't bad looking with or without them."

"This ankle looks pretty good, Pie. The bruise is darker, but the swelling has gone down quite a bit. I'll wrap it up again and tie the rest of the ice around it, and you should be okay for the night. You were pretty lucky, you know?"

"Thanks to you, Professor."

"Do me a favor and knock off that Professor crap. Okay, Pie?"

"Sure, no problem . . . So who do you think was hotter, Ginger or Mary Anne?"

"Neither," Dutchy laughed. "I think that the actor playing The Ape Man was the hottest thing ever to land on that island."

"I remember that episode. He couldn't act worth a shit, but he sure was built. You got good taste, Dutch."

Pie took another drink as he watched Dutchy wrap his ankle. "Dutch, I hate to do this to you again, but . . . "

"But what?"

"Twenty-six bottles of beer on the wall."

"Okay, Pie," Dutchy laughed. "No problem."

Dutchy pulled Pie Eater up, and helped him back to the trees so he could relieve himself.

"Sorry I have to keep asking you to help me, but with all that water and whiskey . . ."

"Don't worry about it," Dutchy grinned. "It could be worse, you know? You could have two broken arms!"

"Yeah. I guess that would be too much to ask of any friend," Pie laughed.

Dutchy helped Pie back to the campfire. After adding more wood, Dutchy finally sat down to relax.

"Can I tell you a secret, Dutchy?"

"No!" he replied firmly.

"Whadda you mean no?"

"Look, Pie. You've been drinking, and every time somebody wants to tell a secret when they've been drinking they regret it the next day. Then the two of you go around all uncomfortable and are too embarrassed to want to see each other. So the answer is no. You can't tell me a secret."

"Well, it isn't really a secret. Racetrack already knows, and the rest of the guys are gonna find out soon enough. I just wanted to tell you before I told all of them"

"In that case, I guess it's okay. Go ahead and tell me."

"Well . . . I'm gay."

"No . . . Ya think?" Dutchy said sarcastically.

"Whadda you mean by that remark!"

"Jesse, Pie. I know you're gay. The guys all know you're gay. Everybody but you knew that you were gay. I'm just amazed that it took you this long to figure it out."

"That's the same thing that Race said when I told him. How come I was the only one who didn't know? When did you figure it out?"

"I don't know, Pie. I guess I've always known. You never really dated anybody seriously. The only time you took a girl out was when you went to a dance or something. Look at our senior prom of instance. You, your date, Blink, and Mush were the strangest couple I've ever seen."

"Whadda you mean couple? How can four people be a couple?"

"That's just it. You brought her there all right, but that's where it ended. You spent most of the night talking with Blink about sports, and she spent most of the night talking with Mush about the latest fashions. When Blink asked her to dance you talked with Mush, and when Mush asked her to dance you talked to Blink. The only one who didn't ask her to dance was you. And you love to dance. Like I said, the four of you made a strange looking couple that night."

"Well, if everybody knew that I was gay, why didn't anybody tell me?"

"You're right, Pie," Dutchy said as he took a large gulp of whiskey. " That's exactly what I should have done. I could have told you after one of your football games. You know . . . when all you guys were celebrating and slapping each other on the ass. I could have gone right over and said 'Great game, Pie. Oh, and by the way, you're gay.'" Dutchy took another sip of whiskey. "Those ass slaps would have taken on a whole new meaning after that."

"I guess you're right," Pie sighed.

"Figuring out that you were gay was something that you had to do for yourself. Nobody could do that for you. But I have to say that you do seem pretty comfortable with the idea."

"I am. I dated a few guys last semester. It definitely felt more natural than any of the dates I had with the girls in high school. I'm taking it slow though. I haven't slept with anybody yet. I mean, I'm not a prude or anything. It's not like I haven't done_ anything_, but I'm not about to go jumping into bed with every guy I meet just because it's convenient. I'd rather be with somebody I really care about . . . Damn! That sounded so wussy, didn't it? Like some line out of a girly romance novel?"

"Nah. I think it sounds nice . . . And smart too. Besides, I'm glad to know that you haven't become a man-slut. That's Spots job, and I don't think that there is room enough for two of those in our group!"

"Yeah. It's a good thing that he and Race found each other," Pie laughed. "I think that Race is the only one that could keep up with him!"

The two remained for quite while as they lay looking up at the night sky.

"Look, there's the big dipper," Pie said pointing overhead.

"No. That's the little dipper," Dutchy corrected. "The big dipper is over there."

"Oh, yeah," Pie said as he rolled onto his side. He had moved so close that the two were almost touching.

Dutchy was beginning to feel uncomfortable and started to squirm. His muscles became tense as he felt Pie's warm breath wash over his neck.

Dutchy started to inch away but Pie's hand grasped his elbow. Then the hand moved slowly up Dutchy's arm and across his shoulder until it came to rest on his chest.

"Um, Pie?. . . What are you doing?" Dutchy asked.

"Ah, I'm not sure yet," Pie answered. His voice showed little to no emotion. Then his hand began to move slowly across Dutchy's chest as it traced the subtle muscles beneath what was left of his shirt.

"Um, yeah, okay," Dutchy said uncomfortably. "Then would you like to tell me_ why_ you're touching me?"

"Ah, I'm not sure about that either," Pie replied.

Dutchy wasn't sure if he wanted to stay or move away. "Well, will you let me know when you are sure?" He asked.

"Yeah, sure," Pie answered matter-of-factly.

The feel of Pie's hand on his chest, and the warm breath on his neck sent a hot surge through Dutchy' body. Though the sensation was glorious, the strangeness of the situation suddenly outweighed the pleasure. He was about to move away when Pie leaned over and kissed him on the corner of the mouth.

"Pie, what the hell - -"

Dutchy's words were silenced by Pie's lips pressing against his. Dutchy remained tense as Pie slid partially on top of him. When he felt Pie's tongue enter his mouth his resistance faded and he eagerly returned the kiss.

When it was over, Pie looked at him and said, "Okay. I'm sure now." Then he rolled back onto his side.

"Sure about what!" Dutchy asked sounding more than a bit annoyed.

"Sure that I like you," Pie answered plainly. "And that I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to be sure that it was the sight of you in those wet boxers that was making me feel this way and not that snake bite repellent."

"Then you're sure?" Dutchy asked pensively.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Pie answered

"So what you're saying is that you like me, and not just as a friend?"

"Yup . . . That's what I'm saying."

"And you're sure that this isn't the alcohol talking?"

"Yeah, Im sure."

"And you like the way I looked in the wet boxers?"

"Hell yeah! But I was pretty sure that liked you before that. The boxers just kind of helped things to . . . um . . . develop a little sooner than I expected."

"So then would you like to . . . maybe kiss me again?"

"I sure would."

"Well, it sure took you long enough!" Dutchy laughed as he pulled Pie on top of him.

**END - CHAPTER 2**

Thanks for reading. Please review.

* * *

**A/N:** This story was not beta'd. I hope that any grammar mistakes were not too much of a distraction.

Thanks to all who inquired about **Seems Like Only Yesterday**. This story is still active, and I plan to post the next chapter soon.


	3. The Revenge

I do not own Newsies, or any of the Newsies characters. To the best of my knowledge they are owned by Disney.

I am making no money from this story. I seriously doubt the sanity of anyone who would pay money to read anything I have written.

* * *

Racetrack cons Dutchy and Pie into an overnight hiking trip on a deserted island. 

Modern, Humor, Fluff, Mild Slash. Rated for Language.

* * *

A/N: This is the third and final chapter of this story.

* * *

**CHAPTER 3 - The Revenge**

"Here comes Racetrack," Dutchy said as he extinguished the campfire.

"And he's three hours late exactly like you said he'd be," Pie chuckled. "It's a good thing you saved those sandwiches or we'd be half starved by now."

"Shit!" Dutchy grumbled. "I just remembered I owe that son of a bitch ten dollars."

"What for?"

"Okay, Pie. . . .The real reason you were tricked into coming on this trip was because . . . Well, I've liked you for a long time now. I've been trying to get you to notice me, but you just looked at me like one of the guys. I talked to Race about it, and he came up with this _ridiculous_ plan. He said that you would be more interested in me if I could impress you by being like one of those macho guys that you hang out with at school."

"Where does Race get these stupid ideas? If I'd wanted to be with one of those macho guys, I would have . . . you know . . . done what we did last night with one of them. But I didn't want to be with one of them. I wanted to be with someone special . . . And I was," Pie smiled as a blush crossed his face.

"I told Race that it was a stupid plan. I was sure that you'd figure out what was going on and want to kill me. He bet me that you and I would be making out under the stars before the night was over."

"We did a lot more than make out," Pie grinned.

"Yeah. He said that would probably happen, but I didn't believe it."

"Are you disappointed?" Pie asked.

"Hell no! I'm thrilled. I couldn't be happier . . . Why? Are you sorry about last night?"

"Of course not," Pie said as he pulled Dutchy closer for a kiss. "Last night was the best night of my life. And this morning was even better!"

"Then you have no regrets?"

"Only one," Pie answered.

A pain filled Dutchy's chest as his heart sank. This was what he'd been afraid of.

"So what's your regret?" Dutchy asked cautiously.

"I regret that I owe that little S.O.B. ten bucks myself."

"For what?"

"He bet that not only would I have a good time with you on this camp-out, but I would also have the time of my life. And I sure as hell did," Pie grinned. "I hate it when that little bastard is right. He really loves to rub it in."

"Hey, Pie. You wanna give Racetrack a run for his money?"

"Whadda you mean?"

"How about we teach him a lesson before we hand over our hard earned cash? I mean, we are going to pay him. He did get us together and all. But let's face it, you could have been killed. And you're right. He does so love to rub it in when he's right about something."

"It think it's a great idea. What do you have in mind?"

"Just follow my lead and look pitiful. Maybe moan with pain every now and again, okay?"

"Devious as well as sexy," Pie grinned. "I like that in a man!"

Dutchy removed what was left of his shirt, and then tore it into pieces. He wrapped a wide strip around Pie's head to make it look like he had a head injury and used another to put his arm into a sling. Then they took time for one more kiss before Race rowed to shore.

When Race reached the campsite he found Pie Eater sprawled on the ground moaning in pain, and Dutchy holding his hand and looking worried.

"What the hell happened?" Race asked breathlessly as he rushed to Pie's side. The color had drained out of his face, and a slight panic had set in.

"You and your big idea is what happened!" Dutchy spat. "I told you that he would figure out that this was all a hoax. When he did, he was furious!"

Pie let out a loud moan and a pitiful groan. Then he threw in a couple of weak coughs for good measure. Dutchy had to cough himself to cover the chuckle that he was fighting to hold back.

"But what happened to him?" Racetrack asked.

"He started shouting about getting to the phone and getting off this island. Then he said that he was going to kick your ass for making a fool out of him. When he climbed up the embankment, he caused a rockslide that almost buried him in debris."

"Cough, groan, moan!" Pie added.

"It took me half the night to cut enough branches with my pocket knife so I could weave a litter to carry him back here. Fortunately I was able to get a fire started and use the litter as firewood to keep him warm until you arrived."

"Why the hell didn't you call for help!" Race asked as he leaned over his friends injured body.

"Groan, cough, cough, moan!"

"What? On this?" Dutchy snapped as he handed Racetrack the broken phone. "You and your big ideas. Now can we get the hell of this island so we can get him to a hospital already?"

"Moan, cough, sigh."

"Sure, Sure," Race said. "Let me help you get him to the boat."

"You've done enough already! I've gotten him this far. I'll get him to the boat myself!"

Dutchy leaned over Pie and said, "You're going to be okay, buddy. I'm gonna take you to the boat now."

Pie opened his eyes and looked at Dutchy. "Mom? Is . . . Is that you, Mom?" he moaned as though he were delirious.

That was it. Dutchy lost it. He buried his face in Pie's neck and began to laugh.

Race saw Dutchy slumped over Pie and thought that his laughing was actually crying. "Jesse, Dutch. Please don't cry. He's gonna be all right. You'll see."

This caused Pie to start laughing.

Dutchy lifted his head enough to say, "You just go over and steady that boat. I'll take care of him."

Pie looked over Dutchy's shoulder and saw Race hurrying to the boat. Then he pulled Dutchy down for a kiss. Dutchy was laughing until Pie stuck his tongue down Dutchy's throat. Pie gave him a little grind as well.

"Cut it out!" Dutchy huffed. "You're going to get me excited."

"Well, I got you to stop laughing, didn't I?" Pie smirked.

Dutchy hoisted Pie up enough to climb his back, and then he carried Pie to the boat and gently helped him in. Dutchy then slid in behind him and softly stroked his brow. Dutchy tried to remain serious, but it was hard to do as Pie kept pushing himself back and grinding against Dutchy's lap. "You're such a bitch," Dutchy whispered into Pie's ear. Pie answered by grinding just a bit harder than before.

Race's stomach knotted as he looked at his best friend. "You're gonna be okay, buddy. Just hang in there. I'll get you to the hospital in no time."

Pie groaned then dramatically pulled Dutchy's head down and whispered in his ear.

"Sure, kid," Dutchy replied. "I'll do anything you want."

"What did he say?" Race asked.

Pie and Dutchy looked at each other and started to sing, "Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall. Ninety-nine bottles of beer - - "

Racetrack stopped rowing and gaped at his friends. "You bastards!" he shouted. "You dirty rotten bastards! I'm gonna kill both of ya!" Racetrack stood up in the rocking boat and made a grab for Pie's shirt.

Dutchy leaned forward and pushed Race away from Pie. "Back off, jackass! He really is hurt! Just not as bad as we made out."

"Oh yeah? Well he looks okay to me! What the hell is wrong with him!"

"He got caught in a rockslide like I said. He's pretty banged up, and his foot got pinned between two large rocks. We really do need to take him to the hospital to get checked out. He could have gotten killed, Race."

"And if it wasn't for Dutchy, I would still be on that ledge hanging upside down by my ankle. He got my leg free, carried me back to the campsite, and took care of me all night. He really is Super Nature Boy."

"Well you look pretty happy for someone who's supposed to be hurt," Race grumbled. "What's all this ninety-nine bottles bullshit?"

Dutchy and Pie looked at each other and started to laugh. "Let's just say that it's our special song and leave it at that," Pie grinned.

"Whadda you mean your special song? And why are you two looking at each other like that? . . . Hey, are you two- -?"

"We sure are," Dutchy said proudly.

"Did you two actually - -?"

"We sure did," Pie grinned. "Twice!"

"Well, I'll be a son of a bitch!" Racetrack laughed.

"You already are," Dutchy smirked.

"Oh Yeah. Well I may be a son of a bitch, but I'm the son of a bitch that's gonna get twenty bucks from the two of you when we get back!"

"It was well worth it," Dutchy smiled as he slid his arm around Pie.

"I love it when I'm right!" Race smirked. Then as he rowed he started to sing, "Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall . . ."

The End

Thanks for reading. Please review.

* * *

**A/N:** Beta credit for this chapter goes to Shavynel, who not only beta'd but showed me some great editing features that have been hiding in my computer. 

Thanks to all who inquired about Seems Like Only Yesterday. This story is still active, and I plan to post the next chapter soon.


End file.
